


Sinful Desires

by Haruhiryu



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, mentioned Olivia, mentioned Virion/Olivia, metioned Cynthia, metioned Owain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haruhiryu/pseuds/Haruhiryu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you deprive a man of something, no good can usually come from it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinful Desires

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> Good morning/afternoon/evening! Here is 7/5's update. An one-shot today! I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring...
> 
> Truthfully, I'm a bit angry with myself...I accidentally deleted chapter 2 of Unholy Knight, and now I have to re-write it! I think that will be tomorrow's chapter, but if I can't finish it, another one shot.
> 
> This is T-rated, but if anyone thinks it should be M, please let me know and I'll change it. Please read the piece first before you decide.
> 
> By the way...I'm leaving Morgan as a Cavalier, being that's his daddy's "starting" class.
> 
> ...ummm...Besides that, I hope you enjoy today's reading. Kudos and comments appreciated!
> 
> I do not own or have the rights to Fire Emblem Awakening or any of the characters.

He wanted it. …He wanted it bad.

…How long had it been since he’d last done it?

He clenched his hands; he didn’t know.

He unclenched his hand; he needed to do it now.

…But, no, he promised to stop; he had promised her, Robin, his wife.

J-just once. He would do it just once, she wouldn’t know!

…No, this was Robin. She would know, somehow, someway.

He let out a deep sigh, which had helped in the first few days of abstinence, but now, it did nothing.

He. Wanted. It.

~~~

Everyone in camp noticed, how could they not? Frederick, their emotionless lieutenant, was going crazy.

The first few days, no one thought much of it; they, or at least those who noticed, all assumed the war was only getting the better of him, as it did to everyone now and again. He was training everyone with an intense vigor and pushing himself to his limits daily, even in the most mundane tasks. Normal enough. But, no, after this continued for several more days, people started talking.

After a week, everyone knew something was wrong. It was visible for anyone to see. The brunet was starting to look like a Risen, wandering around camp, startling people, even though he was only doing chores. When he talked with others, if he did so at all, he would seem normal at first, but after a while, one could tell how tense the man was.

On training, that as well worsened. All fell thanks to his new and crueler routines, even the fittest of Shepherds were barely standing by the end of the sessions. Either way, everyone would be jelly the next day. And Naga save your soul if you dared miss even one session. Previously, the knight would pester you, sometimes even giving you a private session, but, no; if only it remained so kind. Those who missed a session now were hunted down by the knight, and when you were found, for you WOULD be found, a training session that would leave you in the healing tent for at least a day was your reward.

Only a few escaped his training sessions without recourse, Chrom, Robin, and the healers, to name a few. Even Morgan, his son, who was fitter than most realized, was put through hell; at least his father would allow the boy to rest sometimes during training, which was a gift no other solider was given. Even his wife, Robin, seemed to be suffering. Although she was excused from most training sessions, her health still seemed to be falling. Although physically, she seemed well, many found the woman bumping into things, almost sleep walking, and sometimes tripping over her own two feet. When asked how she was, she would say she is in perfect health, continuing on her way, until she tripped again.

Many of the Shepherds wondered why the Valmese weren’t pounding down on their weakened state. Either they were saints, they felt sorry for them, or they realized that the camp was collapsing without their help.

Finally, someone, Chrom to be exact, tried to talk to him. He was their leader, so the others relied on the cobalt to deal with this type of problem. However, Chrom did it for other reasons as well, the man was his friend, his most loyal follower, and, if he dared say it, a father/brother figure. Seeing the man in such a state worried him deeply.

The Lord surprisingly found Frederick easily, sitting on a log, staring blankly at the empty fire pit. Chrom called the knight’s name, he didn’t respond; which was strange since the knight was always attentive to Lissa and him. He called again, walking closer to the man. Frederick was motionless, all except the clenching and unclenching of his left fist. His face was menacing, worse than any expression the cobalt had seen on Tharja, which was saying A LOT. When Chrom was in arm’s reach, he noticed the man was mumbling, something about wanting IT, whatever, IT was. As he was about to pat the knight on the back, hopefully which would finally gain the man’s attention, he noticed a slight change in Frederick’s eyes. Lust, a deep hunger. Chrom had never seen that expression on the man before. This was not just thirst, this was the look of a man who was deprived and waiting to pounce. Still, the lord needed to do something, not only for the knight, but for the army. Steeling himself again, he reached out, but just before his hand touched him, he saw the knight licking his lips, slow and steady, the dark hunger boiling. That was the last straw, Chrom backed away slowly from the knight and ran. The Lord had strong nerves, but he had no urge, none at all, to deal with that man, especially with him being in such a desperate state.

~~~

The following day, the Shepherds had a meeting, all except Frederick and Morgan. The poor boy was to be the distraction, to keep the man from returning too soon.

They all sat in the mess hall, for the usual meeting tent would not hold them all. It was silent, deathly so. Meetings, all though serious, still had the craziness that this army was known for; yet, today, everything was somber and foreboding.

“Friends,” Chrom stood at the front of the mess hall, with Lucina to his right and Robin to his left, albeit, sitting in a chair. “I believe everyone here has noticed a certain problem that we’re having with a particular knight.” They all nodded. “Does anyone here have an idea of why his behavior has turned…erratic as of late.” Everyone stared blankly at him or the Tactician, who uncharacteristically, fell asleep in her chair. When no one replied for a few seconds, a few male hands started going up, but were soon pulled down by their spouse, who would start arguing with them quietly.

Finally, a brave, or maybe defiant, soul stood, even though it was obviously against his wife’s and child’s wishes. “My friends, our dear leader,” The man gave a bow to Chrom. “I think we all know the meaning to our dear friend, Frederick’s, sorry state.” A few men nodded, which led to some sort of slap, or punishment, from their respective spouse.

“Father, please don’t say it aloud! You’re embarrassing both me and Mother!” The man’s son starts trying to pull the talker down, as his wife holds her hands to her tomato-red face.

“Now, now, Inigo. Father cannot let this continue.” With a mumbled reply, the Mercenary follows his mother’s example. “As I was saying; I believe we all know our dear friend’s suffering. Even though he is married to a lovely and talented woman, it seems he is going without, for whatever cruel reason our Tactician has.” Many woman, and a handful of men, had some sort of blush to their cheeks, but at least someone finally said what most were thinking.

“Going without?” Lucina asked, cocking her head slightly at her father. A few other more naïve children looked puzzlingly at their parents.

“Dear Princess, I mean to sa-”

“Father!”

“Virion! Not. Another. Word.”

“My, my.” The noble puts his hands up in defense. “Is this not what most of us are thinking though?”

The cobalt couldn’t deny it, that was one of the first thoughts that came to mind, but to say it aloud, especially with both his daughters looking lost at him and Sumia...NO! He wouldn’t allow it! At the very least, he would do his best to keep his dears innocent of such matters. “Let us say that is the case, Virion.” Even with his own blush, the Lord continued forward, doing his best to only imply, not to right out say…“Sex.” “How do you propose we solve this?”

“Well, depending on the situation, our methods used might differ, but we should first ensure that this is really the problem between the two.”

“Father, what are we talking about?” The younger Lord jumped in again, trying to understand the conversation.

“It’s fine, Lucina,” The cobalt pats his daughter’s hand. “You, nor Cynthia, have to worry about this matter. Just take a seat. Hopefully this will settle shortly.”

“…Yes, Father.”

“Returning to the matter at hand, how do we broach the topic?”

“Simple, really. We have one half of the problem here; you only need to wake her up and ask.”

“Wh-what? W-w-we…I-I can’t do that!”

“Well, you are the closest to her, besides Frederick and Morgan, but if you cannot, I wi-” As the noble starts forward, Chrom stops him from getting closer.

“Fine! I’ll do it… But does it really have to be here?”

“I would say so, Chrom!” Sully’s voice echoed from the opposing side of the room. “Her husband has been slowly killing us with his training, we, everyone in the Shepherds, has the right to know the reason!” Cheers echo around the tent; although, amazingly, the platinum slept through it.

“F-fine, I understand.” The cobalt walked up to the chair where the Tactician sat, and lightly touched her shoulder. “Robin?”

She jumped, falling into a crumpled mess on the floor. Quickly standing, she looks wildly around. “I’m sorry! Did I miss something. I won’t fall asle-!”

“Peace, Robin. It’s not about that, per se, but, well… I do have a question I need to ask.”

“Of course, I’m all ears.” She smiled innocently, still not fully understanding the situation in her half-groggy state.

“I know this might be a bit…inappropriate to ask, but will you answer it truthfully?”

“Inappropriate? I-I don’t-”

“Please, Robin! This is important, to the sanity of the Shepherds, and myself!”

“D-do you have to ask it here, then? In front of everyone?”

“...Sadly, yes.”

The Tactician took a breath, and nodded. “Very well.”

“We-well, you see… How do I…? …Never mind…” The Lord leaned in, obviously flustered, and whispered the question into her ear. The platinum stood there a few seconds before her face exploded in the similar crimson tone of most of the mess hall. Without thinking, the Lord is pushed away, while the Tactician is furiously shaking her head.

“I-I ca- …Won’t answer that!”

“B-but, Robin…”

“See here, milady.” Virion stepped forward. “That is the only reasonable explanation to your husband’s troubles. He has been tormenting the whole army with his antics. Not only the soldiers are feeling the aftereffects, but the healers as well, dealing with the continuous inflow of patients caused by his training sessions. It has to be the problem!”

“It’s not that! Please trust me; it’s not that!”

“Pray then, what is the problem?”

“W-well… I-it is partially my doing, but I doubt he’d be too happy for me to say it…”

“Robin, please.” Chrom touched her shoulder, trying to ease the reason out of his friend. “The army is going to shambles with the ludicrous training he’s giving us. This needs to stop! To. Day.”

She stood there in silent, all eyes on her, finally nodding. “You se-”

“So, this is where everyone’s been hiding.” The mess tent flap opens, revealing the fear that everyone had. “What is this secret meeting for, milord?” The knight started in, followed quickly behind by his son.

“I’m sorry! I tried to stop him, but-!”

“Hush now, Morgan.” The brunet turned to the young Cavalier, giving a freezing smile. His son could only nod in reply. “Milord?” The Great Knight continued forward.

“W-well, you see… There’s a problematic person in the army.”

“And that would be myself, would it not?”

“What makes you-?”

“Really, milord? You think me daft? It’s the only sensible answer to why there’s a meeting, without my knowledge.”

“O-of course you're not daft! I didn't mean to imp-!”

The knight stopped him. “Let us get on with this meeting; how am I problematic?” The knight, reaching the front of the room, turned to his audience. No one, not even the courageous or foolish, are willing to answer. “I’m waiting.” A few more elongated seconds past.

“…It’s your new training habits.” A soft, barely audible mumble, made the brunet turn.

“Come again?” The smirk on the man’s face sent a shiver up every soul’s spine. “Louder, if you may?”

“It’s your training, Father! Everyone in the army is suffering, even Mother!”

Turning to his son, he opens his mouth, about to reply, but closes it, choosing to think instead. The tent is silent, waiting to see what the lieutenant will do. Slowly, as the minutes pass, the man seems to regain his countenance a bit, returning to the strict, but not killer, facial expression that he usually wears. Finally he speaks, eyes on his wife. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“I suppose, but I never thought that this would be the consequences…”

“I know,” The knight lets out a sigh, leaning on the nearest table. “I myself didn’t realize I was burdening the army.” Standing straight again, he turned, giving Chrom, then the whole room, a bow. “Forgive me, milord, everyone. It seems that my actions were inexcusable, and although I don’t deserve it, I ask for your forgiveness.” With that, the knight stood, not waiting for the reply, for many of the Shepherds had blank faces. Starting for the exit, his fists clenching and unclenching, he is stopped before he can leave.

“Hold, dear Frederick!”

The knight turns and takes a few deep breaths before replying to the Archer. “Yes?” His voice bordering on irritated and a forced calm.

“See here, Frederick, I think you, or Robin, should explain this matter. With the amount of trouble you have caused, we all deserve an explanation.” The tent echoes with varying levels of agreement.

“I-I see… It is a tad embarrassing, but very well… You see, I’ve been trying to kick a habit. I never believed it troublesome, but Robin thought it so. Due to this, I suppose I’ve been tense, letting out my frustration on the army.”

“Does it have something to do with your and Robin’s relationship?”

The brunet arched his eyebrows, looking at the Archer. “I’m sorry, can you elaborate.”

“Your nightly habits; has your wife been depriving you?” The hall waited with baited breath; they were finally getting their answer!

The knight blinked a couple of times, then shook his head. “If you speak of our intimacy, it has always been more than satisfactory, especially within these past few weeks.” In general, the knight would probably be slightly flushed, refusing to even give a response, but in his addicted-addled state he was blunter and less ashamed.

“Wait then, what is the problem, then?”

“…Fire.”

“Fire?” Chrom and the others looked at the man in confusion.

“I am what you might call a…pyromaniac. I love everything related to the flame. How it heats; how it cooks; how the flame dances; how, with the basic of tools, it can be created; how it can destroy; how it can be destroyed. The flames… They are captivating.” From mundane to eccentric, the knight’s demeanor changed from stoic to almost Tharja-esque. With a breath, he reigned himself in, continuing. “Because of my… extreme interest, Robin asked me to limit my fire-time hobby. And, well…now we see where that landed us.” His words aimed pointedly at his wife; she shrugs in response. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll start the night’s camp fires.”

~~~

“If we move our troops here, we’ll be able to anticipate anything the Valmese… Chrom? Are you listening?” The cobalt snapped out of his reverie, returning to the matter hand.

“I’m sorry, what?”

She craned her head, trying to see outside the strategy tent, where Chrom had been spacing. Besides Morgan, Cynthia, and Owain babbling about something, her husband was soaking in the fire’s blaze. “Something still on your mind, Chrom?”

“N- …Well, yes. Forget for a minute that I had no idea that Frederick was so enamored by fire; that still doesn’t explain why you’ve been part Risen during this whole experience, when you haven’t even been to his trainings.”

“Oh?” She tipped her head left and right slowly, pondering the answer. “…Well, ‘cause it’s you Chrom, I guess I don’t mind explaining that part. I’ve been running on less than an hour of sleep daily these past few weeks.”

“What! But, why? Hasn’t Frederick been monitoring your habits since the two of you married?”

“Do you remember what Frederick said earlier this meeting about taking out his frustration on others?”

“Y-yes?”

“Let’s just say my backlash was in the form of ‘nightly’ exercises.” The cobalt took a few seconds to understand the meaning, flushing immensely when he understood.


End file.
